


the worth of a moment

by raienetta



Series: prompts [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Godric's Hollow, M/M, Muggle Reader, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Marauders Era (Harry Potter), St Mungo's Hospital, that was a bad summary i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25105942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raienetta/pseuds/raienetta
Summary: The story in which you run from a cheating boyfriend and end up witnessing the fight between Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. You get injured but wake up in time to save Sirius from Azkaban. Despite the evidence presented to you, you are hesitant to accept this strange new world that is way too similar to the stories your father used to tell.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Reader
Series: prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1398166
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	the worth of a moment

Where you wait outside the bar is freeing. It's raining and the downpour of water doesn't make you any warmer—obviously. There is still no sign of Kai who is probably so pissed that he doesn't even remember ten minutes ago when he kissed you and then told you that he'd 'be out soon'.

_ Might as well get the car _ , you think to yourself bitterly.

You had decided to park the car in a side street around the corner from the bar as you didn't want to be caught up by any drunks stumbling around on the road. Obviously, neither of you had thought that it would rain.

When you open the door to the Austin Allegro, you take off your dripping jacket and ring it out on the sidewalk before chucking it on the floor of the backseat. You turn the engine on and begin your drive to the bar, cursing your boyfriend the whole way.

As you drive up the street, you notice that there is a parking spot a little further up the street and the way back to the bar is, for the most part, covered. You park and then scoff as you wrap your arms around yourself as you begin to trudge through the puddles that have formed on the sidewalk.

Walking back into the club you can see a crowd had formed around the bar. The music that blasts out of the speakers can only do so much to muffle the chant of ' _ drink, drink, drink _ '. Hoping to find your boyfriend in the group you approach, only to feel your blood boil at what you see.

It is not that in the middle of the group you could see your boyfriend holding a bottle of beer. It is not that he is the centre of attention of a very large group of drunk and rowdy idiots all of who are dressed up. No, it's none of that.

What makes your blood boil is the fact that grinding into his lap—right in front of you—is a drop-dead gorgeous bombshell. Legs that go on forever, leather pants that leave nothing to the imagination, the most captivating blue eyes. But let's not forget the blonde hair. The type of blond used to describe females. Females like the one engaged in a heated make-out session with your supposedly very _gay_ _boy_ friend.

_ Okay _ ,  _ nope _ . You've seen enough!

Your boyfriend didn't even notice you—which is saying something as you were right in front of him—and it makes your heart break. Without any hesitation, you stalk out of the bar and back to your car, with no intention to ever speak to that dickhead again.

Knowing that your mum is not expecting you for another hour at least, you turn on the engine and decide to drive around the area that you and Kai had decided to explore for your third anniversary.

Godric's Hollow is a fairly nice town. A few more interesting Halloween costumes than most areas—white mask and black cloaks which remind you of stories your father used to tell—but otherwise it looks like any other town. Some of the buildings along the street look abandoned, but with everyone most likely at parties this early in the night, it is only to be expected.

Parking the car, you began to walk around. Here and there you passed a group of children but their parents were quick to herd them along.

_ Most likely late for whatever party they had agreed to go to _ , you think as you notice that one of the groups rushes into a house that is filled with lights and music.

Continuing to walk along the street you turn into a street that is not lit so brightly as the others. The moonlight streams through the trees and the light from the houses is dimmed by their closed curtains. As you continue to walk along the street you notice that it has an evil, tense feel to it.

You hear a shout and look to the other end of the street and at a house that looks like it was recently destroyed. A policeman is inspecting it and two men stand arguing in the middle of the street. There are a few other people around but no one seems to be concerned about the two men in the middle of the road.

The thin man shouts something at the other as he lifts and points what appears to be a stick at the other's throat. The other man, who was shorter and pudgy than the first man also took out a stick (what is it with these sticks?). He flicks his wrist and points it to the ground.

There is a flash of light and then you suddenly feel the ground leave your feet—no wait, your feet leave the ground—as you are thrown back by the explosion. When you land you feel all the air in your lungs leave with a woosh. Gasping for breath you roll over and try and stand up but don't even have the strength to keep your eyes open.

The last thing you see as your vision fades is the thin man crumbling to the ground and laughing hysterically.

* * *

The first thing that you notice when you regain partial consciousness is that you can feel soft sheets against your arms. There is a slight breeze in places that your medieval peasant costume would have covered, leaving you to assume that you are no longer wearing it.

You hear shuffling to your left but when you try to open your eyes, none of your muscles move. They feel like stone and the sound of shuffling getting quieter seems like a death sentence. 

You try to stay awake but the more you struggle, the further you drift back into unconsciousness.

* * *

The next time you wake, you can hear someone talking to you. They are speaking softly but there is no hiding the hoarseness that comes with spending long amounts of time crying. Their voice is comforting but they keep mentioning names and places that you have never heard before.

_ Dumbledore. Voldemort. Hogwarts. Sirius. Azkaban. _

The last word was said with so much hatred and fear that you are not sure what to think about it. As you actually begin to listen to what they were saying you became more confused. 

What sort of person was a ‘muggle’? Or a ‘squib’? And not to mention ‘half-blood’ and ‘part-creature’?

_ I'm dreaming _ , you tell yourself as you drift off,  _ I'm dreaming and when I wake up, none of this will have happened _ .

* * *

You were not dreaming. Instead, the next time you wake up there is someone else in the room. 

You once again try and open your eyes, this time succeeding. The person must have been looking at you because as soon as your eyes flutter open they are rushing to pick up a container from the tray at the bottom of your bed. Fumbling with the lid, the person directs it to your lips. 

Sadly for them, by the time they begin to coax you to drink the liquid, you have once again passed out.

* * *

Your next bout of consciousness is sudden. There is no slow input of information, no foggy recounts of previous wakings. Instead, you are met with a panicked shout.

"He needs to wake up!" Someone says.

"He will, Remus," Another voice responds. This voice is calm, unlike the previous voice which was full of panic.

"But not in time! They say they're only going to wait another week before sending Sirius to Azkaban!"

"The ministry will hold off sending Sirius to Azkaban as long as there is still a living witness. They fear wrongly imprisoning the godfather of the Boy-Who-Lived and a member of the House of Black."

"Dumbledore, they think he sympathises with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! They think that Sirius let him murder Lily and James. The Daily Prophet is saying that he killed 13 muggles and is calling him a Death Eater! The ministry will be pressured into sending him, and I can't stand that thought!"

"Remus, calm down!"

"I CAN'T! They're going to put Padfoot in Azkaban! Who is Moony going to spend the full moons with?!" Remus' voice is so loud that it causes you to scrunch your eyes and let out a soft groan.

"Did you hear that?" The other one asks.

You slowly open your eyes – blinking rapidly at the influx of light – and see both of them looking at you. 

In the chair beside your bed is a young man with dark brown hair and unnaturally golden eyes. Next to him is an old man with half-moon spectacles and robes that in all but pattern looked like they belonged to a cult.

"He's awake!" The man with golden eyes says, "Quickly! Call a Mediwizard!"

The old man rushes to the door, "A Mediwizard or Healer! Whoever is available!" He calls entering the corridor. As soon as the door is closed you cannot hear any more sounds from outside.

You turn to the man next to you, "Where, where am I?" You ask.

"In Saint Mangos," He says, "Surely you know that! It is the only wizard hospital available!"

"Wizard hospital?" You say in disbelief, "You're messing with me!"

The door opens before he can say anything else. A woman enters, she is wearing a similar outfit to the old man (who is trailing behind her) but it is lacking the vibrant colours and unique pattern. 

"I am Mediwizard Howells," She began, "I will be assessing your condition Mr l/n, and if I find that it is satisfactory then you will be able to leave before the day is out—" (here the lady pulled a stick from her sleeve) “—I will begin with a few simple tests, tell me if you feel anything strange or you begin to feel unusually tired. Ready, Mr l/n?”

“Yes?” You replied.

The lady begins to wave the stick around while she mumbles words. Every few seconds she comments, “peculiar, very peculiar,” and then continues to wave the stick. You could not help be to flinch when a roll of paper comes flying out of the end of the stick. The young man looks at you strangely and whispers something to the other man. 

“Mr, l/n,” ‘Mediwizard’ Howells begins after she finishes reading the paper, “Have you ever come across difficulties when performing magic?”

“What in God’s name are you on about?” You exclaim. 

It seems however that that was an answer to the lady’s question as she gives a small nod while she walks to the door. She turns to the two other men and asks, “Mr Dumbledore, Mr Lupin. May I have a word outside?” 

“Yes, yes,” Says the old man as he follows her out the door, leaving you alone in the room. 

Inspecting it you can see that it is not like any hospital room you have been in before. There are no curtains, the bedside table is made for actual wood and no bags of fluid were being slowly pumped into your body. 

It feels like ages before they re-enter the room and when they do, the ‘mediwizard’ approaches you while the others stand at the door.

“Mr l/n,” She says, “You’re free to go. I will come and see how you are settling in tomorrow evening,”

“Okay...” You say as she helps you out of bed. 

She hands you over to Remus who guides you out of the hospital and into the street. 

Once outside you turn to look at the building but are left gazing at a rundown red brick department store called Purge and Dowse Ltd. Upon releasing this your feet lock into the ground and Lupin’s grip on you jerks you towards him. 

“What?” You ask, still staring at the building.

“Come on! No time to lose.” Remus says gripping you and placing a hand on your back. You shake it off however, in no way are you a damsel in distress.

They continue to lead you away from the not-hospital and through the busy streets. You’ve been walking for some time, when you begin to feel whatever drugs they gave you wear off. Your breath weakens again and sounds wheezy but whenever you try to stop and catch your breath they continue to usher you forward.

You end up walking for a fair while before catching a break. It eventually comes when you turn down a street called Grimmauld Place and Remus and the old man ( _ Mr Dumbledore? _ ) began to slow down. They stop between two houses and turn to you. 

“Now, remember very carefully otherwise you won’t be able to get in; The address is 12 Grimmauld Place.” The old man says. 

He looks into your eyes for a moment before he turns and walks into the gap as if there exists something other than brick.

Just as you prepare to see him hit the wall your vision blurs and there is no sign of Dumbledore anywhere. The space where he was heading is exactly the same and as you run your hand along the stonework you don’t notice any secret tricks. 

“After you,” Remus says, gesturing to the space.

“Uhhh.” You say eloquently, “Maybe we could go together?” 

Remus sighs before grabbing your hand and pulls you forward. Together you walk towards where Mr Dumbledore just disappeared. As you stand in front of the wall you close your eyes tight. 

You walk into the house that has just appeared. The front door opens revealing a long hallway, lit by the gas laps and large chandelier. A handsome man with short-cropped hair stands in the hall. He is shouting at a painting which is howling about 'mud-bloods' and 'blood-traitors'. 

"Shut up, you infernal woman!" He shouts as he rips the curtains around the painting closed. Turning to you and Remus, he continues, "I'm sorry about that. She makes the worst racket whenever anyone enters!"

You just stare blankly at the space Sirius had just covered. Your mind whirls from what you wave just seen. Surely you're still dreaming or even concussed. You're imaginative enough and surely all this talk about magic isn’t serious! 


End file.
